


CCPN reports: The Flash

by writers_blocc



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry is done, Drabble, F/M, Flashpoint - Freeform, Iris is a petty mayonnaise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7557247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writers_blocc/pseuds/writers_blocc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short stories, drabbles and one-shots about WestAllen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. cock block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She swears it's not on purpose.

          The whole gang is out to dinner. In one of his rare bouts of civility, even Wells agrees to come.

          Wine, food and cheer pass around the table effortlessly with Cisco making it his personal duty to keep everyone entertained, even with the joy and elation synergizing their small group of heroes: human and meta alike, on its' own. A lack of monthly bad guys to defeat is a probable fault as the scales for once tip in their favor. 

          Whatever it is, Iris is just grateful to have the ones closest to her near. Carefree; happy.

          “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

          The waitress, Jojo her name tag reads, ask above Barry’s shoulder. She’s a small thing, tinier than Iris by an inch or so but her eyes are big and expressive. A mixture of brown against a pale green that shine under the dim atmosphere of the restaurant. It’s no wonder he can’t take his eyes off of her.

          “No, I think - I think we’re good for now.”

          Barry looks around the table for confirmation, turning his gaze back with a smile. Iris knows that smile.

          Once upon a time she was on the end of that smile.

          The one where his eyes crinkle at the sides, airing warmth; making him look younger, more handsome.        

          “Okay, well if you need anything…” she lingers, briefly, showcasing deep dimples in both cheeks. She’s almost too pretty. Her hair alone stirs enough envy in Iris. Try as she might, Iris could never get her hair to pattern after such tight curls.

          “Yes, definitely.”

          She refuses to acknowledge the way her insides twist as Barry watches Jojo go, so she bites on her bottom lip and forces her disagreement down. After all, the current status of their relationship was her idea.

          Some ease falls over her, though, watching Jojo separate herself from the table. Iris can relax, enjoy her meal and relish in the conversation being had about Earth 2’s imagery as told by Jesse.

          “President Knowles, for real?”

          “Yeah, she’s actually the highest ranking president in our Americas history.”

          “Americas?”

          Barry stands up excusing himself with a mention of using the restroom. She loiters on his back until he disappears down a hall next to the entrance.  “Can you believe this, Iris,” Wally asks from beside her, returning her attention back to the conversation, she gives her two cents and laughs at Wally's expense at all the right times but she can't help but notice Barry's absence; made all the more apparent by the chill at her right shoulder.

          He’s been gone for far too long considering his speed - heck, he's taking his time by regular standards.

          Her eyes pop up, over the rim of her wine glass and spots him by the doors, chuckling at something the waitress is saying.

          Iris wants to know what’s funny. She wants to laugh too.

          At least that’s the excuse she tells herself getting up from the table. “I’m going to go check on Barry, make sure he’s okay.”

          She doesn’t wait for a response, standing and moving across the open layout of patrons sitting around _Gianni’s_.  

          “There you are Barr, everything okay?”

           She cast Jojo a look, wariness marked in the smolder of her eyes. They can never be too careful with strangers outside of their group. Barry should know this better than anyone by now.

           “I’m fine,” his stance shifts from left to right, hand stretching up to ruffle hair at the nape of his neck. “I was just talking,” he sounds caught out, like he's been doing something he shouldn’t.

             A part of Iris finds a semblance of joy in that.

             She moves closer to him, reaching out to stroke his arm, up to his shoulder until the pads of her thumb flanks the edge of his jaw.

             “I should probably get back.” To their ears, Jojo sounds a bit forlorn but smiles despite it. “My boss’ll kill me if he sees me standing around."

              Iris exhales heavily, mirth assembling in her chest relieved with the growing distance Jojo created until she disappeared behind the doors of the kitchen. Her feel good moment doesn’t last long though, not with the way Barry’s eyes slant in her direction.

            “What?”

             “What are you doing?”

            “Nothing.”

             He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. She’s lying. They both know it.

            “Iris.”

          She takes offense to that. The way he says her name, annoyed and bitter like she’s the one flaunting herself, alluding false hope.

          “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            The muscle in his jaw ticks, giving way to the sharp edge where a trail of freckles ornaments the line. Iris counts five before they disappear behind the cover of his hand, shoulders dropping with a sigh in its’ wake.

          “Seriously, Iris, stop just stop.”

          He uses the same tired tone on her whenever she gets out of line. And maybe …  _maybe_ she might have crossed some metaphorical dividend in the sand but she’s only looking out for him.

          “Barry-”

          “I know.”

          They’ve said and done this all before. At this point, it’s a relentless crossroad.

           She wants him to be happy. Truly. Her makeup is not intentional, believe her, she wants nothing more than to see her best friend ride off into the sunset with the girl of his dreams.

           Problem is, Iris is that girl.

           He just can’t have her.

           By a twist of fate, she can’t let him have anyone else.

           “What are we going to do,” he asks, voice hushed in the foyer of the restaurant. “We can’t keep doing this.” What he really means is:  _he can’t keep doing this._

           She doesn’t have a clue. “Your answer is as good as mine.”

          Tongue in cheek, he turns on his heel, creating space, huffing irritability as he kicks the floor with the toe of his shoe.

         “I can't be with you … but I can't be with anyone else either?”

         A singular piece, the one she keeps tucked buried deep at the bottom of her soul, questions why would he want to be with someone else anyway.

          Iris stalks closer, gaining on his unsuspecting back, the color of her nude nail polish is a stark contrast to the navy of his sweater; much like the tone of her skin against his. Like cream poured into a cup of hot coffee.

          Her arms twine around his waist, like a vein to a tree, hands linking just below his navel.  _Inhale, exhale_ she reminds herself pressing her cheek firmly to the blade of his back. “I’m sorry.”

          His hand follows, palm running smoothly along her wrist. “Don't be sorry, Iris, just … just tell me what to do. Tell me what you want.”

          _You._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me prompts/headcanons, maybe? please? Here or my tumblr @sabby56


	2. destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Would your take on Barry and Iris' "first" meeting in Flashpoint count as a prompt for you? dedicated to sendtherain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recently titled cock block, but since I'm taking prompts I've decided to combine them all under one story. I will leave the rating as T but will note if chapter includes adult themes.
> 
> I hope this borders closely to being okay - I know it's not what you were expecting but after watching the flash season 3 promo, I feel like Barrys' memories were either disappearing or recreating themselves to fit this new timeline, and this sort of happened as a result. If you don't like it, I'm always willing to try again!

That weird pitter patter thing you hear, yup, that’s Barry’s heart. You're probably wondering why it sounds like a tennis ball repeatedly bouncing off the wall, well if you turn around-

No, the other way.

A little to the left...

Oh, good you see her too.

Those goosebumps, the chill racing down your spine, the sweat on your brow, hell, the float-y feeling you're experiencing right now is because you’ve been staring at the back of her head for the past 10 minutes.

She’s only six feet away, it’ll only take a second to reach her, maybe even less if you calculate the whole speed thing you’ve got going for you. So go. Now, seriously, get off your ass and talk to her. She’s the girl of your dreams - your best friend. Your tether.

Destiny has told you time and time again; across any universe, in any timeline, you two are meant to be. So get the hell up. Don’t mention any of this to her, though, it may be a little too much to handle and relax. _Relax._ You’re stressing, that’s normal. It’s not like your entire reason for being here depends on this one singular moment in time or anything.

No biggie, right.

Right?

Good, you're on your feet. This is progress, now approach with caution.

“Hello.”

Seriously, how does she even make confusion look so pretty?

“Hi.”

“I’m Barry.”

“Barry?” 

“Barry … Allen?” 

“Oh, Barry Allen, yes of course.”

Confidence depletion commences in three, two…

So … she doesn’t know you.

Tough break.

Is it humanly possible, though, like in the two worlds you’ve been to, you’ve know each other? By that theory, we should be acquainted here - the newspaper said…The newspaper. 2024, we should be married in this timeline - at least know each other to some degree.

“You don’t remember me?”

Her mouth gapes, closes then opens again. You're doing a brilliant job, Barry. Keep it up. “Should I?”

Does that mean, we’re not even friends?

Low blow. _Low blow._

“Right, sorry, um - I should,” don’t you even dare. This is supposed to be our happily ever after. We’ve got both parents, we’re still CSI - albeit, Joe’s being weird but we’ll figure that out later… and bonus, we’re still fast enough to break the sound barrier. All we need is Iris, she’s the final key, the missing piece to our puzzle and she’s sitting right in front of you. So muscle up! “Can I, can I get you a refill?

Iris peers down at her mug, filled to the brim.

“After you’ve finished that one, I mean.”

“... sure.”

_Shift._

_Cough._

_Stand awkwardly in her presence._

Check, check and check.

“Do you want to sit down?”

Oh, thank god. “Yes, sure, of course.” take it down a notch. “Thank you.”

“So, how do we know each other?”

“We attended middle school together.”

“Really?”

The memory is faint, but there seeded in the back of your mind is a recollection of walking the halls of Central City Junior High. Henry, somehow, even managed to encourage you to join the cross country team. It turns out you got pretty decent once your growth spurt hit and you corraled these limbs under control - hell, you kept it up until senior year of high school and got a partial scholarship.

Don’t you remember that, Barry?

You have to remember watching her from afar, admiring her beauty but never having the courage to talk to her.

Don’t you?

“Yes.” _tap tap, tap tap_. You’ve got to figure out a way to stop that annoying habit. Sit still. “Actually, we graduated high school together, class of 09.”

You were going to ask her out to prom. You spent two months drafting a speech, reciting the lines to yourself on a constant basis until it became a mantra you could spout off in your sleep. You remember that, right Barry? The pang of discomfort you're experiencing right now is the same pain you felt when word got out that she was going with Tony Woodward. She did look beautiful in her dress, though.

What color was it again, white or red?

Maybe gold?

And in which timeline was that again, this one - or the one you selfishly left behind?

“Wow. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

Snap out of it.

“We didn’t really hang out. The extent of my social prowess was spent running.” But you had to have friends, right Barry. Everyone has someone. What were their names again?

“Other than that I mostly kept to myself.”

Names, what were their names?

Oh, but wait, maybe you should pay attention. Look Barry or you’ll miss it.

It’s nearly impossible - how do you miss the shine, the glare emanating from her left hand? You’re too late Barry - at least that hasn’t changed.

“Married?”

Iris follows the focal point of your attention. “Engaged.”

Why wouldn’t she be seeing someone? Who in their right mind would let Iris go willingly?

Cue major side eye, The Office style.

“That’s great, congr-,” it’s hard to say, isn’t it, wishing her well on her upcoming nuptials. “That’s nice.” that’s better.

“Yeah well,” her eyes pivot, finishing off with a shrug. “It seemed like the next logical step.”

She doesn’t mention love.

Don’t jump ahead of yourself, learn from past mistakes - there was that whole debacle in Jitters after you reset a day, the first time. Why did you reverse time? You were happy on that waterfront. For the first time, in a long time, you allowed yourself to feel instead of worrying about the unknown. What would make you want to erase it?

“Speaking of, I should probably get going. Eddie’s waiting for me but it was nice seeing you…”

“Barry.”

“Right, it was nice seeing you Barry.”

Good job.

* * *

 

Across the street, 1 o’clock.

There she is again.

Beautiful, absolutely gorgeous.

It’s amazing how she perfects perfection without trying. There should be a medal, at the very least a cash prize for such an outstanding performance. She’d win each and every single time, trust me.

“Barry?”

Okay, she sounds flustered but good news … she remembers your name.

Maybe next time: don't run up on her.

Just a suggestion.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Keep steady eye contact, you advanced on her, act like you want to be here. If all else fails - fake it until you make it.

“I owe you a coffee, don’t I?”

Would you look at that, her nose scrunches up in uncertainty here too. Almost identical to your Iris.

“If you’re not busy, we can rain check if you want.”

A little brazen, aren't we Barry? Who’s to say she has time for you. She’s engaged, remember, to Eddie - You remember Eddie, don't you? How he was the one to sacrifice himself. He was the true hero that day, remember? You didn’t deserve the praise. Eddie did. What happened after was your fault because you've always only, truly, cared about yourself. I bet you everyone else remembers.

Well, they would if they could.

“No, um, now is fine.”

Right, left, right, left. Focus on walking in a straight line. Be settle, cool. Confident. The speed force is with us after all.

Nothing can touch us. We’re invincible. Can you recall that feeling - like nothing in the world could touch you even when everyone had their doubts, still … _still,_ you knew. You were going to defeat Zoom.

That’s right, you were going to bring justice to both worlds … remember how surreal it felt to have that raw electricity coursing through your veins?

It felt good, didn’t it?

When was that again?

Before or after Iris made you calm down?

“I’m sorry if I’m being weird, I just got back in town,” not a complete lie. She doesn’t appreciate that as history will tell. I wonder, when do you plan on sharing your secret with this version of her?

Today?

Months, years from now?

“You’re a familiar face and I thought, maybe, I dunno it was fate trying to tell me something.”

“Fate told you we should be friends?”

“It sounds weird when I explain it that way...”

A little bit.

I told you, play it cool.

“What I mean is, seeing your face is reassuring … in that I made the right move coming back.”

“And you don’t think it was mere coincidence that we happened to be in the same place at the same time?”

It’s probable. Let’s just call it destiny instead.

“No, I think some people are just meant to be in your life. I have a feeling you’re one of those people.”

“You honestly believe that?”

You have to Barry. Without Iris, how else are you going to get home?

Home.

_‘Barry, come home to me.’_

“Iris.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me prompts/headcanons, maybe? please?


	3. okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Iris getting badly injured and Barry having to find her all hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to snappingstilinski  
> -why did you do this to me!?

He can feel the worried stares like a second skin. The lingering panic itching away at his pores the more silence covers the room. She’s going to be okay, though.

That’s it. No, if ands or buts about it. Iris is going to be okay.

He’ll turn back the hands of time otherwise. Speed force be damned. The repercussions could kiss his ass and anyone else who bothered to add their two cents could fuck off as well.

**Day 5**

He’s alright the first few days. He has hope, faith that everything is going to work out … but it’s Friday now, and Iris is still not awake. Caitlin is doing her best. She truly is; she can do better. Barry is not shy in telling her so.

He apologizes once Cisco pushes him back, threatening to blast him with shock waves he can’t fully control yet.

**Day 7**

A getaway car, of all things he muses. A car full of drunken teenagers out on the town.

He can run faster than sound.

Create lightning.

Alter reality.

Yet somehow, someway he's not fast enough to save her.

When he finds her unresponsive, bloodied and bruised, he rips the door off the hinges. Prepared to break every superhero credo known, except it’s too late. He looks on, a moment of guilt springing shared by sparse empathy for their families and loved ones. They’re gone. She, at least still has a heartbeat. A chance.

It’s a shitty way to reconcile, but it latches onto him, stalling the desperation resting at the base of his spine; enough to distract him to _run_ faster than he has before.

He just needs her to hold on.

“Just hold on for me, Iris.” Barry pleads at her bedside. “please.”

**Day 10**

Day 10 is hard.

Around noon, Iris codes. Caitlin is the first person to arrive in the med bay, she needs “space Barry. I can’t help her if you won't let me,” the doctor sounds just as frantic as he feels but he can’t - he won’t - leave her side.

They try talking him down once Caitlin stabilizes Iris. Wells blocks the entry with Joe and Wally at his side.

“Think about what you’re doing, Barry,” Wells says, eyes clouded with solace that betray his stance. Harrison knows what it’s like to almost lose someone you love. Caitlin, better than anyone - everyone here in some form or fashion does and he wishes he could go back - wishes he could erase their pain but he can't. He can save Iris, though; break right through the barrier of time and shatter the existence of this reality.  

“Think about the potential damage you could cause.”

Barry scoffs, demeanor taking a savage hue, “I don’t care.”

Three words have never sounded colder, not even in the events of Henry’s death because this is Iris. Iris is his future. He’s not the Flash without Iris - he’s not Barry without Iris.

“I can save her.”

“But at what cost? You know she wouldn’t want this.”

**Day 17**

They have visitors. Felicity, Oliver and Diggle’s presence creates a nice enough distraction away from all the angst circumventing the lab.

“We came as soon as we could,” Felicity vouches, weeks removed but with good reason. “How is she doing?”

Her brain is still swollen. Her bruises are healing but there’s no accurate time frame when she’ll come back to him. “As good as she can be.”

“And you?”

Barry leans in, shrugging, gaze focused on the restful look on Iris’ face. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear she was sleeping.

“Barry?”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

He catches the once over behind the seal of her glasses, starting at the mop of hair that hangs by his ear, down to the scruff lining his jaw and over his shabby appearance. More than once Caitlin and Cisco remind him to eat, his glucose levels depend on it otherwise he could experience fainting spells again. it’s just too hard to keep anything down.

“Yeah," he inches closer to the bed, tightening his hold on Iris’ hand. “I’m fine.”

**Day 30**

“He told me once, Eobard I mean, said that I’d never truly be happy.” looking back, he should’ve ignored the cruelty of the reverse speedster and focused on the few good things.

For once, STAR labs sits quiet, minus the low hum of the ventilator and the squeak of his shoes against the aluminum tile floor. Sometimes the quiet is hard for him to handle, a trait he picked up from Iris herself.

Joe who “can’t sit around, watching his baby girl die,” invest his time in the streets of Central City, doing what he does best.

Wally’s arrogance sits muted whenever he stops by to visit. Like Barry, he doesn't say much just looks on helplessly, waiting for a change to occur. Days go by, results remain the same on good days, bad days Barry can see any remaining hope dim in the lines of his features.

Most days Cisco keeps himself busy in his work room - floors below the med bay. Caitlin accompanies him unless she’s needed.

And Wells - God bless him, takes a verbal beating when tensions rise. Who else does Barry have to lash at? The family on the brink of losing their only daughter, sister? The doctor who’s working hours that bleed into days - months - to try to bring her back. Or the newly crowned friend who's losing out on the potential of what could've been?

“For the longest time I thought he was right,” bitter laughter escapes because oh, the irony. “I should’ve laughed in his face, called him a liar…” Barry muses, watching the lines of the monitor read her heart rate. “Because I have you Iris, and you make so, _so_ happy. There was never any doubt about that.”

He stopped crying weeks ago, tear ducts having dried up from days use, but sitting here now, he can feel them bridging the corner of his sockets, blurring his vision.

“It’s getting hard. I - every day I try to live up to the man, the hero I know you believe I am. But, Iris when I’m out there all I can think about is coming home to you.”

He sniffs, wiping at his stained cheeks. “You’re probably calling me every name in the book right now, aren't you?” a chuckle breaks through her silent response. “I can’t help it. I’m selfish with you that way. Sometimes, I think the city will be fine without me. CCPD managed to get along without a clandestine red vigilante racing through the streets, I’d like to think they could do it again;

Then I remember you and your courage. How you'd want me to keep fighting, protecting those who can’t do it themselves. So I keep going, Iris, for you.

And if you can hear me, I need you to know that I’ll always be here, now, when you wake up, 50, 60, 80 years from now. I’m going to be here, and I’ll keep going for the both of us, promise.”

More silence greets him. He likes to think she says, “okay” in agreement. She’s lying here, comatose but alive. She still has a chance, the proof in the beat of her heart. That’s all he’s ever asked God for.

“Enough about me, though,” he wipes at his chin, recomposing. In his duffle bag, he finds a worn copy of the Dark Tower, flipping to the dog ear towards the back of the book. They started reading a few days before the accident, Barry using his speed as an advantage finished in minutes much to Iris’ chagrin. So he started over at a normal pace. She’d just finished reading chapter two earlier that day when he got the call, “chapter sixteen…”

**Day 53**

“How? You’re her father!”

“She’s not getting any better,” there’s no mistaking the dread of defeat airing from Joe. “Caitlin has done everything she possibly could. The doctors have done everything they can. She’s not getting any better - she’s not you.”

Joe’s right, Iris isn’t Barry. She’s stronger.

“She just needs time, give her time.”

A coma ate away nine months of her life, waiting by his side - Barry would do the same for her.

He’d wait forever if he had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me prompts/headcanons, maybe? please?


	4. you & me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Barry actually worked up the nerve to ask Iris out in HS and they've been dating ever since ( with only a few minor bumps in the road). dedicated to DesertEagle.

Barry’s heart hammers rapidly against the shell of his ribcage, waiting, counting down the seconds one _mississippi_ two _mississippi_  ... 

“I’d love to.”

three _mississippi_ four - his countdown comes to a screeching halt, stopping time itself. 

“For real, are you sure?” He points a long index finger to the center of his chest to clarify, “me - you mean with me? You’re agreeing to go on a date with me?”

Iris turns her head just slightly to the side, biting her lip to keep the smile from spreading. “Yes, Barry. I’m sure.”

There’s a dull buzz ringing in his ears, watching her nod one last time before suggesting tomorrow night at 8.

“Yes, yes of course. For sure.” He stumbles.

“And Barry?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be late.”  
No, never. Iris is worth being on time for. She’s worth the nerves circling his system and the swarm of eagles flying around in there too.  “Cool, Barry, just be cool,” is as far as his little pep talk goes walking up the West driveway, nevermind the fact he’s spent countless summer days here; has helped Iris with her homework; spent the greater portion of the evenings watching classic 80s movies and bonds with Joe and Wally over Miners games.

None of that seems to matter when the door opens. “Barry.”

“Hi - Hi’ya Wally, how’re you?”

The younger West, a sophomore to Barry and Iris' senior status, and clearly a foot shorter, broadens his chest, assessing Barry from head to toe with a cross of his arms like he's a complete stranger - like he hadn't spent the entire weekend helping Wally finish his car model for the junior engineering club.  

“I’m great,” Wally starts, shouldering the door back to expose Joe sitting in his usual chair beside the couch, eyes locked and loaded in his direction. “You?”

Fine, normally he would be fine in his home away from home but the warm kindness he’s used to finding in Joe’s eyes is absent.

“Good, good,” he stumbles. “Is - Is Iris ready?”

“She’ll be down in a minute,” the elder of the estate stands to his feet, switching places with his son. “Go grab your sister Wally, let her know her guest is here.”

From friend to guest, that’s quite the demotion.

“Can I holla at you for a second,” like Barry has a choice with Joe already imposing on his personal space, backing him out onto the porch clouded by a mixture of orange and red.

Much like Iris, the fall reminds him of all the beauty this world has to left to offer.

“So,” Joe cuts in, leaning against the railing wrapped around the front of his house. “You finally did it.” It’s more statement than question. There has never been any doubt of Barry’s affections for the West girl who lived down the block - the mystery, however, lay in when he was going to muster up the courage to finally do something.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, I’m happy for you.”

He’s still wearing that look, hard eyes that Barry's only seen on television when the admirable Detective Joe West gave statements to the citizens of Central City, but his mouth quirks up just a bit showing a hint of a smile - Barry will take whatever progress he can get.

“But.”

There’s always a but.

“She’s my little girl, Allen and as much as I like you - I care about her more. You understand?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you certain?”  
“Positive.”

“Alright,” Joe outreached his hand, shaking Barry’s in an abnormally firm grip. Great news - Barry only winces slightly.

They drop hands just as the door creaks open and out steps, Iris, dressed in a floral dress that skims the beginning of her kneecaps, long socks Barry has seen girls wear around school this time of year peek out of tall dark boots. And her hair looks windswept and - “gosh you're pretty.”

It takes him a moment to register he’s said that out loud much to the amusement of Joe, who snickers beside him and Wally who hollers from inside.

“Thank you, Barry.”

“Iris and Barry sitting in the tree…”  
“ _Dad!_ ”

Joe takes the hint, lifting his hand in surrender, aware of his daughter's  warning tone and the trouble that lies ahead for his youngest. He kisses his daughter on the temple, wishes her a fun time and warns Barry to have her home by 11 before storming in the house to ward off Wally's teasing.

On their very first date, he takes her bowling. Iris kicks his ass in both games.

**:**

Iris is the head captain of the school's varsity cheerleading team.

Barry is on the debate team.

She plays lacrosse in the off-season.

He, after some major convincing, joins the cross country team. He’s not very good - he’s slow and his long legs are just a medical injury waiting to happen but his coach reminds him, _it’s not about how fast you run, Barry, it’s about the endurance._

At first, it’s a crappy pep talk he composites until it actually becomes useful in his approach with Iris. It’s senior year, Thursday at 1:45 on the dot. Her second to last class is over and she should be on her way AP English. He finds her at her lockers switching out one book for another and with each step, he tells himself ' _it's the endurance. Barry, endure.'_ He's stuttering, sputtering fool and he stares at his beat-up Converse the whole time but he does it. He asks her out. 

And…  well, you know what happened after.

It’s Monday now, the start of their second week of the new school year and she’s holding his hand, walking proudly at his side through the stunned stares of their peers. At first, the acoustics are extra loud, Barry is sure he can hear Mr. Davenport grading papers from a floor above from the dead silence greeting him that morning.

‘Did you hear’

‘Barry and Iris’

‘No way, really’

‘Oh, come on are we really surprised, they’ve been attached at the hip since middle school’

‘I know but still’

‘You totally owe me 20’

Are just some of the comments he hears throughout the day.

**:**

On their second date, Barry scores tickets to a writers workshop held at Central City’s Public Library. It takes place early Saturday morning, and Iris needs about two cups of coffee to fully wake up but when he removes his hands from her eyes and Cat Grant (crowned editor for the Daily Planet) is standing at the head of the room, Iris practically jumps in his arms.

Barry learns that he’s never going to be a writer and that’s okay because Iris has _potential_ and if she _continues to write every day, perfecting her craft she’ll have a bright future to look forward too_ , Cat says so herself.  

That night he brings her home and they stand outside her door. He's lost in her beauty, as per usual when she lifts up and kisses him on the cheek. He can't count how many times she's done this before, really the number of pecks from her lips to his cheek ranging from middle school to now is endless but this ... this is different, she's lingering and Barry swears he can feel every atom in his body come alive as they drift down inching to the corner of his mouth.  

When the porch light shuts off.

“Good night, Barry.” Joe’s deep voice calls from the other side of the door. Slowly, Barry shuffles back, “g-good night sir.”

He tries to act like her father interrupting them hasn't severely dampened his mood and wishes her good night.

Later on, that night as he’s tucking himself into bed, he receives a Facebook alert. Iris has changed her profile status to in a relation with Barry Allen. Like the eager beaver he is, he hurries to do the same.

**:**

Their third date is more or less a group hang at the movies. Linda and her beau of the month are there, so are Cisco and Caitlin for Barry’s comfort.

One unwanted addition comes in the form of Tony Woodard who flirts with Iris, much to her dismay.

“Tony, stop. I’m with Barry.”  
“And, so?”

Barry is aware that Iris can take care of herself but like she said, he’s her boyfriend.

He goes home with a busted lip for his efforts, just as well Tony leaves with a chipped tooth courtesy of Barry’s fist.

When his father checks him over that night, Henry suggests Barry take up boxing, “to keep from breaking your finger, slugger.”  

**:**

They arrive at her home from a game-winning victory against their rivals. He does sports to a degree, favoring basketball over football but he goes to support Iris and her cheer squad. After all, that’s what good boyfriends are supposed to do, right? 

So far, there’s been no pressure but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't dying to kiss her. Quite honestly, it's making him antsy. 

It’s 10:58, his watch reads. It doesn't help that she has to be in the house in two minutes.

They’ve got exactly one minute and thirty-eight seconds before the porch light goes off.

His hands are sweaty in the cool night air, worried that he's going to suck or that his breath reeks of cheese from the pizza he ordered earlier at the game (because duh, he's not going to risk jalapenos and onion breath at the beginning stages of their relationship even if she has seen him scarf down a whole pie by himself - that was BDI= Before Dating Iris- and this is now.)

He shouldn't have to worry, though, Iris has always been the braver of the two. She takes him by the lapels of his jacket, bringing him down to her level and he has the split second to capture this memory for later before her lips seal over his. She's softer than he imagined, greater, sweeter than anything his mind could ever conjure up. His eyelids drop, seeking refuge in this one single moment on her porch, savoring the cotton candy taste on her lips and the hand pressed right over his heart and -

The minute strikes and the porch light switches off.

“Good night,” Joe calls loudly, and even under the dim light of the night, Barry can still see the blush sweep under her skin.

“Good night, Iris.” He keeps his voice low for only her to hear, brushing his lips against hers one final time before the door swings open.

“Night, sir.”

“Mhmm.” Joe hums, stepping back to allow Iris inside and closes the door in Barry’s face.

That night, Barry skips the entire three blocks home.

**:**

Around homecoming, they have their first real fight as a couple.

Even though they’ve been going steady for months now, Barry should still know to ask.

Obviously, he just assumes they’re going together.

When he approaches her in the hall in between classes, curious about what color tie he should get to match her dress - she huffs, literally huffs in his face before slamming her locker and strutting away.

He finds her in the cafeteria later, after texting in class and trying to catch her in between to ask her what’s wrong.

“Nothing.”

And as his father once told him: _nothing is definitely something._

“I am so confused,” he empties his worries on Caitlin and Cisco later on that day, during their walk home. “Why are girls so fricking confusing!”

“We’re not confusing,” Caitlin rightfully defends her gender, stretching her legs to keep in step with the longer one of his. “If you all just took the time to listen…”

“Listen to what,” Cisco chastise, stuffing a Cheeto in his mouth, “the new shoes you purchased?”

“How very sexist of you.”

“Hey,” the shorter of the trio retaliates as she snatches the bag away, mentioning how unhealthy the bag of artificially flavored snack is before rounding on Barry;

“Have you been listening to a single thing she’s said for the past month?”

Well…

He brought up his memory bank of all things Iris:

How she smelled. How bright and contagious her smile was. He could draw the soft curve of her lips by memory alone - and the way she tasted on his lips kept him awake most nights. The red tip of her nose during colder weather, bundled in by her fashionable hats and scarves - how ridiculously adorable she was and pretty - just so pretty-

“Barry!”  
He starts, almost tripping over his own two feet, “Wha-”

“Boys,” Caitlin sighed. It was crazy how even the smart ones were clueless. “She wants you to ask her.”

He blinked, dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Because it’s romantic. We like romance.”  
“Who’s sexist now?”

“Shut up, Cisco.”

So he camps out on the Wests’ front porch well after Wally has returned home from junior engineers after Joe carries in a bag of groceries for dinner that night informing him that Iris is visiting a friend after practice. He waits.

It’s almost 9 when Linda’s car pulls into the driveway and she emerges from the passenger side, wishing her friends a good night before stomping up the walk. The headlights on the Toyota are bright, so bright he almost misses the smug look coming from the driver as she pulls away. Almost.

“Barry what are you doing out here? It's freezing.”

“I was waiting for you.”

For a split second, his Iris - the one who’s not so angry with him appears for just a sec, pulling him up by the hand. “You couldn’t do that inside,” she soothes the pad of her gloved hand over the chill of his, warming his bare skin with the blow of her breath. “You’re going to get sick.”

Joe asked him, several times to come inside but after a 5th ‘no I’ll wait’ Joseph West retreated, bringing him a cup of hot chocolate for his efforts instead. “I don’t care.”  
“Well, I do.”

He’s such an idiot, how did he ever think that Iris West - _The_ Iris West would ever be just okay with bare minimum and assumptions? A girl like her deserves the absolute best.

“I’m sorry, for being an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot, Barry.”

“I am,” he disagrees, pausing the rub of her hands. “Because I didn’t even bother to bring you flowers to make up for all of this but,” he steps closer, basking in her heat centered in the pools of her brown eyes. “I promise to do better from here on out. Starting now. Iris, will you go to homecoming with me?”

If she said no, he would ask her a hundred times over, bring her flowers, write it in the sky. Whatever she wanted he would do it.

**:**

One day they’re in his home alone. Nora is states away busy with a conference. Henry is on the 48-hour shift at the hospital, there’s no accounting for Wally’s presence since he added tutoring to his schedule and Joe is at work until later that evening. By some fortunate  miracle, he’s not obsessively worrying about her whereabouts.

So of course, they take advantage.

The weight of Barry’s body on top of hers keeps her on edge, steadily tilting over with the press of his thigh in between her own.

It’s daring, this little adventure they’re taking for the first time but _God_ is he good at it. Exceptionally, and if her mind wasn’t so fogged by the pleasure his body and his mouth were creating she’d probably stop to ask him how.

But he sucks her tongue into his mouth and any notion or concept about anything other than him gets tossed out the window.

**:**

It’s January already.

Barry’s birthday is here before she knows it. She works extra shifts at Jitters and babysits for her neighbors to save up enough cash to rent out the Science Observatory. It’s a pretty penny but well worth the look on his face as he steps into a room covered in galaxies and their stars, greeted by his friends and family and his peers from all his different clubs.

“Iris, you did this all by yourself?” Henry and Nora offered to help but Iris is pretty persistent when she wants to be. “I can’t believe this, you’re amazing. I don’t know what to say…”

“Do you like it?”  
He pulls her close, “I love it,” he whispers in her ear.

When the crowd pulls together to sing him happy birthday, she feels a swell of satisfaction surging just beneath her skin watching him take it all in, warmth blankets over her when he catches her eye before blowing out the candles, throwing a wink in her direction.

It’s like a hiccup in her chest, weird, she knows but she can’t explain it any other way - the thudding and they stop and go pattern of her breathing. Applause snaps her back to the present and she joins in, happily watching her boyfriend serve out pieces of cake.

When he gets to her, he has a plate in his hand for two. She doesn't know what compels her to do it, but she swipes her finger, full of icing right down the bridge of his nose. He chuckles, retaliating and trying to do the same when Cisco calls his name.

He hands her a napkin to clean up, wiping the frosting from his face still laughing, “you’re lucky I love you," he says in passing before excusing himself with a promise to return.

That hiccup, yeah, it’s back, stabilizing itself as the party goes on; quickening as he dances with her around the room, stilling at the delight impassioned in his eyes as he opens up his presents.

_… lucky I love you._

_… lucky I…_

_… love you…_

They stay behind until the last guest leaves, mindlessly picking up stray trash so it's not too much of a hassle for the staff. “I don’t know if I told you this already, Iris, but thank you. Tonight has been amazing."

His praise rattles on, background noise to the buzzing in her ears.

He loves her.

**:**

A week go by and he doesn't mention it.

Followed by another.

And, what the heck, was she hallucinating?

Had she imagined the words?

“You know, you could just tell him yourself.”

Linda says from her spot on Iris’ bed, absentmindedly flipping a page in Cosmo. “This isn’t the 19th century, we don’t have to play the hopeless female protagonist waiting for her knight and shining armor to come save her. We don’t have to wait for a man to do anything. If you love the dork, tell him.”

True, but what if she’s jumping a serious gun. What if he doesn’t mean it the way she thinks he does. I love you can be so vague sometimes, ya’know? I love you like a friend. I love you like I love pizza or TV. It doesn’t necessarily have to mean I love you like I’m in love with you, right?

“RIght?”

“You worry too much.” Linda throws the magazine down, standing up to face Iris. “Go, just go. Tell your boyfriend you love him.”  
“But what if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

These two, really. Linda rolls her eyes, they were going to drive her to drink. “It shouldn’t affect how you feel, so you love him. Don’t be afraid of that.”

“You’re right.”  
“I know I’m right.”   
“Okay.”   
“O-kaaaaay.”

“I’m going.”

“You go girl.”

“To tell Barry I love him.”

“That’s right, you tell him.”

“Okay.”

When the door slams downstairs, Linda falls back onto the bed, picking up where she left off in Cosmo’s 110 ways to please your partner. “Dorks.”

 **-**   
Iris finds him in the foyer upstairs, settled on the floor with his back against the couch and his legs kicked out with a book in his lap.

She stops on the last step, taking the moment for herself to just watch before he looks up and notices her.

He’s wearing his glasses today, the thick frames that he hates for people to see. The one’s she secretly loves because he looks even more handsome with them on.

“Oh, hey.” He says, eyes drifting up; green irises highlighted by the lens. “I thought you were hanging out with Linda today.”

“I am or I was.” She takes the step up, her dark gray fuzzy socks a contrast to the cream color of the carpet. “But I missed you, so…” she opens her arms as to say _here I am_.

Barry pats the open space beside him, inviting her to join. “I missed you too.” He wraps his arm around her, automatically finding the spot on her hip to pull her closer.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”  
“Never.”

She looks down to the book in his lap, noting the J.K. Rowling signature lining the spine. “I can’t believe you went and bought thing so soon.”

He smirks, “I’ll have you know it was a birthday gift from Cisco. He pre-ordered it. It just arrived.”

She lifted a brow, his thumb holding the spot was towards the back of the book. “You’re almost done?” It shouldn't be much of a surprise.

“It’s a good book, but…” he flips to the beginning. “I don’t mind starting over.” He places a chaste kiss to her temple. “Chapter One…”

He starts, setting the scene, giving voice to the words on the page. Creating  a world where the characters have a chance to come alive leaving her in wonder in how she ever got so lucky so early on.

And it spills out.

“I love you.”

Barry pauses, tilting his head just slightly to remove his eyes from the book to her. “I love you too, Iris.”

There’s no cheesy music playing in the background, or roses sprawled out in a heart shape - things she imagined when she was a little girl, no instead, Judge Judy is yelling in the background on television from the floor below, wind hammers against the window panes and she’s dressed in her old cheerleading sweats with his mathletes sweater from freshman year.

And it’s perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave no prompt unwritten. it's taking a while, but i swear i have intention to write everything sent my way.  
> send me prompts/headcanons, maybe? please?


	5. in a second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:Barry and Iris don't know each other. They are both attending a wedding and meet at the snack bar/food table or get seated at the same table and from there on things blossom as they talk all night. Dedicated to snappingstilinski

“I hate weddings.”

“You and me both, but alas,” Cisco finishes with a sigh, taking to the room full of people dressed in their finest, housed under one roof for the evening solely for the new, happily married couple. 

Although, Barry’s reasons differ from Cisco’s entirely. Barry tensed in big crowds whereas Cisco just watched the love of his life marry. 

“I’m sorry.”

The shorter of the pairing can only shrug, “don’t be, besides it’s my fault. I should’ve said something while I had the chance, ya’ know ‘sides,” he looks into the crowd where he can spot Caitlin beaming in her white dress, “she’s happy. That’s all I want for her.” sucking in a deep breath, he excuses himself. 

Barry contemplates going after him, thinks better of it and stays rooted to his spot. When he was ready to talk, or be around people he would return. 

“What’ll be,” the bartender ask, shortly after his arrival.

“Whatever you have on tap.”

He holds up a finger advising Barry to wait one second while he takes off down the bar. Barry slots some cash into the tip jar while he waits, leaning into the bar with a cross of his arms with eyes on the ticking hand of his watch. He’s yet to congratulate Caitlin and wish her marriage well. The sooner he does the more acceptable it is for him to leave. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

He starts with the hand perched on the vacant chair, following the path of her arms until he lands on her face, recognizing the dark hair that caught his attention earlier in the church. 

“No, um, it’s all yours.”

Barry keeps still as she moves closer, marveled by the chance to see her up close instead of several pews behind. If it’s at all possible, she’s even more gorgeous now. 

“Barry, right?”

He startles, shook from his cogitation and points a slender finger to his chest, “how do you know my name?”

“You’re a friend of the bride’s? Caitlin’s mentioned you at least a hundred times.”   
“Oh, well yeah. I guess.”

Extending her hand, she offers, “I’m Iris.”

“Nice to meet you.” He forces himself to ask the next logical question that comes to mind, the default of wedding questions. “And how do you know the bride?”

“We studied in undergrad together.”

“So you're a doctor too?”

“God no, never really had the stomach for broken bones and blood.” 

The bartender reappears and Barry thanks him with a tilt of his head, watching as he takes her order and sips at his drink tediously, almost wishing for the time to progress faster. 

“Caitlin tells me you work in forensics?”   
Exactly how much of his life story has Caitlin deduced to this total stranger? He wasn’t private per say but an even playing field would’ve been nice. “CSI.” he provides, directionless on where this is headed and if it’s building towards anything at all. Women like her don’t usually find interest in guys like him.  

His drink is still full by the time hers is halfway gone and he thinks the appeal has worn away due to his silence and lack of enthusiasm.    

“Do you want to dance?”

Hesitating, his words stumble, “I’m not very good,” he points to his black shoes, “two left feet.”

“That’s okay,” boldly, taking him by the hand she says, “we’ll sway.”

As it turns out, he can sway just fine.

“I hope, I’m not taking you away from someone else here… a date maybe?”

He should say the same. There is no way she’s willingly here by herself. “No, uh, the person I came with doesn’t really feel like being around, so.. **.** ”

She lets it die on his lips, leading him in small circles on the dance floor as she hums along to the song he’s unfamiliar with. 

“This is one of my favorites,” she comments, whispered under the growing lyrics  _ whenever you’re ready _ .

Somehow, she gets him to dance through two more songs before the best man takes center stage, doting on the beautiful couple and Barry catches Caitlin blush briefly from a kiss her husband places on her bare shoulder.

“Their love is beautiful.” words temp off into a sigh, just short of wonderment.

To a point he agrees. On a day like today where everything has been meticulously placed to go off without a hitch, it’s almost fairytale like. 

“Love can be a complicated thing.”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters: the whole soulmate concept.” He fidgets with his tie a bit, hot under her gaze now. “Is ridiculous.” 

“I didn’t take you for a lothario.”

He snorts at the accusation. Him? A lothario maybe in a past life but certainly not this current version of himself. “Trust me I’m not, what I am however is a man of science. I deal in practicality and the idea of one person destined for another is just… absurd.” 

She sips her drink, leaning back into her chair, intrigued, a little riveted if he has to guess and he moves to further explain himself, “let’s consider that I’m wrong-”

“You don’t strike me as the type.”

Ducking his head, he cups the back of his neck, pushing on, “many a man can save himself if he admits he’s done wrong and takes his punishment.” 

“Henrik Ibsen.”

Iris West, a woman gifted in bravado and wit surprises him yet again.

“Not many people know of Ibsen.”

“I’m not many people.”

No, you certainly are not, Barry muses, turning to the table where his empty glass lay. “... the idea of having such a thing, folds on itself, one person per person deviates from the idea that people grow and learn from experience.” 

“Love,” he says, “is an emotion. It can be fleeting, here one day and gone the next. It’s unrealistic to think that the belief of a soulmate is everlasting when the main element is infeasible. Wouldn't it make sense to have more than one?”

“No one ever said it was easy.”

“Yes, but no one expects to fall out of it completely either.” Barry shrugs, “yet it happens.”

“Spoken from experience?” 

The question reads more into than she’ll ever know. “You can say that.”

Her touch is warm against the shell of his hand, passing before he gets the chance to register the swelling sensation, “I’m sorry.” 

“You shouldn’t be.” reasserting himself, he adds, “It wasn’t your fault.” 

It was no one’s fault, really, it just sort of happened. One day he felt hope, calm and wanting and the next… it was gone, poof, like it never existed. There was nothing she could do or say, there was nothing he could work on to bring it back. The feelings were too far embedded for either of them to dig themselves out from. 

“My father always told me real love is everlasting.”

“Are you saying what we had wasn’t real?”

“There are only two people who know the answer to that,” she constitutes. 

He bites the corner of his lip, studying her as she does the same with ebony eyes on full display under lashes that tease him with every bat. 

Where had she come from? He ponders, wondering how she came to creation to find him at this exact time and place. 

“Then what are you saying?”

“That it exist, if it’s true.”

Cisco walks back into the ballroom, removing the query in mind when Barry notices the disheveled appearance evident by his loose tie and red-rimmed eyes.

“You alright?” He asks when Cisco is in earshot, standing to encourage him to take his seat.    
“No, I’m fine.” He’s not but Barry doesn’t push, “have you talked to her yet?”

“I figured we’d go together, in case you needed my support.”

“No, no. I want to do it by myself.” He tries to smile, but it’s edged with discomfort, “she’s my best friend after all. I should be able to speak with her one on one.”

Barry forgoes mentioning that it won’t be just them, it’ll be Caitlin plus Jay. He can only nod, wishing him luck.

“He’s in love with her,” is more statement than question, greeting him in the return to his seat as well as her knowing smirk as if her claim proves her argument.

“Doesn’t matter now.”

“Maybe,” leads him to think she knows more than she’s willing to share.

And it pushes him to ask of earlier considerations. “You know this first-hand?”

She giggles, light and cool matching the subtle spark in her eyes. “Actually, I’ve never been in love.”

“But you believe in its’ capabilities?” 

“Sometimes, that’s all it takes.” 

He thinks about that for the rest of the night. 


End file.
